James Mangold's Bob Dylan biopic "A Complete Unknown" is a curious affair, at once ambitious in scope yet strangely empty at its core. As a massive Dylan fan, I approached the film with cautious optimism, hoping for insight into one of music's most enigmatic figures. What I got instead was a rather conventional Hollywood treatment that mistakes imitation for understanding.
Timothée Chalamet certainly throws himself into the role with admirable commitment, but his Dylan never quite transcends the realm of impersonation. There's technical proficiency in his performance, but little of the raw emotional power that makes Dylan's actual recordings so compelling. Watch the footage of Dylan performing "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" at Newport and you'll find more depth and storytelling in those few minutes than across this entire 141-minute film.
The narrative focuses heavily on Dylan's controversial "going electric" at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival - a pivotal moment in Dylan's (and music's) history that should carry tremendous emotional weight. Yet Mangold somehow manages to drain the scene of its power, turning what should be a poignant cultural shift into a poorly shot frenzy that fails to deliver the emotional payoff the film desperately needs.
Monica Barbaro emerges as the film's saving grace, delivering a compelling Joan Baez who feels like an actual human being rather than a historical footnote. Her scenes with Chalamet, particularly their duet on "It Ain't Me Babe," provide some of the film's few genuine moments.
The film suffers most from its utter lack of self-awareness. Dylan himself has spent decades mythologising his own story, playing with truth and fiction to craft his legend. But rather than engage with this fascinating aspect of Dylan's persona, Mangold gives us a straight-faced, often cheesy retelling that occasionally veers into unintentional "Walk Hard" territory. The framing device involving Woody Guthrie feels particularly contrived, as do the numerous cameos of actors portraying folk legends that amount to little more than distracting nods to history.
For all its flaws, the film remains watchable mainly because of the music itself. There's something inherently compelling about seeing these iconic songs performed, even in pale imitation. Dylan devotees will find elements to appreciate, though they're just as likely to be frustrated by the film's missed opportunities and oversimplifications.
"A Complete Unknown" ultimately fails to capture what makes Dylan truly special - the mystery, the poetry, the contradictions. Todd Haynes' experimental "I'm Not There" understood this fundamental truth about Dylan, using multiple actors to portray different facets of his persona. Mangold, by contrast, seems determined to squeeze Dylan into a conventional biopic mould, resulting in a film that's as predictable as its subject is enigmatic.
